


I'm Covered in Seaweed, Washed up in the Sunshine

by anangel



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Baby Harry, Baby Louis, Cutesy, Fluff, Growing Up, Growing Up AU, Harry is the sun, Louis is a little obsessed, M/M, Many metaphors to stars and moons and suns, Nothing really makes sense, Pining Louis, larry stylinson - Freeform, teeth rotting fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anangel/pseuds/anangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has wild, wild curls. As Louis looks at his face, all he sees is sunlight surrounded by a tangled mess of dark hair, which is blowing freely in the wind. His face is lit up by a wide, wide, wide smile. An easy, natural grin that is pure and simple - like sunshine through a raindrop. The large smile he holds reminds Louis of The Cheshire Cat, from his little sister's story books; it's the kind of smile that shows all of your teeth. His face is so soft, hazy around the edges. He has features so blurry and out of focus. His long eyelashes are nothing but black wisps of night, casting shadows across his blush cheeks like angel webs fallen from the sky. Louis notices the way his mouth is deep berry, as if stained by brambles as wild as his hair. There are small freckles scattered around his button nose, like scattered stars in a night sky. His smiling eyes are crinkled up at the corners, so much that he is squinting. He radiates sunlight, he's wrapped in stars, he's tucked into a pocket of grey September sky.</p><p>♡ Or Louis is 6 and 4 year old Harry reminds him of sunshine. Lots of candy floss fluff and growing up. ♡</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Covered in Seaweed, Washed up in the Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sharna Banana ✿](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sharna+Banana+%E2%9C%BF), [The_Emmed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Emmed/gifts).



> Hey Guys! So this is my first fanfic and I'm really happy that I finally got the first chapter done (after lots of procrastination and tests!) So here it is... it may seem quite short but I worked VERY hard on it and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> *I posted an earlier version but I have re-written and I also dedicate this to The_Emmed who motivated me into continuing this! Thank you! And written specially for my bestie, Banana! Love you!
> 
> The title is from Cuddle Me by The Boy Least Likely To

 

 

♡ Louis is 6 ~ Harry is 4 ♡

Even though it's September, when there's snow fluttering to the ground like tiny butterflies, angel webs, white stars. It's September when Louis finds Sunshine, in the depths of autumn snow. It's as if the rest of the world is smoke and rain, grey and bleak; yet there's this small glow of golden beneath it all. He's the same glow that's put upon your cheeks as winter winds bite at your skin. The warmth in his eyes could melt an avalanche, Louis thinks.

Louis knows it's a silly thought. After all, you can't have sunshine and snow at the same time. But he supposes that thinking people can be sunshine is also a silly thought. Maybe even sillier (and the word sillier is even sillier-er… if that is a word.) Louis must be silly, then. But if being silly means seeing this boy glow golden, then Louis could not care less. And it doesn't seem so silly right now. The thing is, he can see that this boy is sunshine. He is sunshine in every sense of the word.

He has wild, wild curls. As Louis looks at his face, all he sees is sunlight surrounded by a tangled mess of dark hair, which is blowing freely in the wind. His face is lit up by a wide, wide, wide smile. An easy, natural grin that is pure and simple - like sunshine through a raindrop. The large smile he holds reminds Louis of The Cheshire Cat, from his little sister's story books; it's the kind of smile that shows all of your teeth. His face is so soft, hazy around the edges. He has features so blurry and out of focus. His long eyelashes are nothing but black wisps of night, casting shadows across his blush cheeks like angel webs fallen from the sky. Louis notices the way his mouth is deep berry, as if stained by brambles as wild as his hair. There are small freckles scattered around his button nose, like scattered stars in a night sky. His smiling eyes are crinkled up at the corners, so much that he is squinting. He radiates sunlight, he's wrapped in stars, he's tucked into a pocket of grey September sky.

His body shakes with laughter, a dream-like sound, as he bounds into puddles of melted star. He looks so lovely, with his too big, bright yellow Wellington boots and his small rosebud mouth. He reminds Louis of Bambi and Valentine's day. He's laughing so loud, Louis can hear him all the way from across the road. Wet hair is dripping into his eyes, sticking to his forehead; Louis smiles because he feels warm inside. He feels warm even though he refused to put a coat on and ran outside while his mum couldn't see. This boy warms him up, with his too big boots and small giggles that escape berry lips.

There’s that dizzy feeling again, the thing he's been feeling ever since he saw this boy. It feels like he's on a slow moving carousel and everything around him is blurring out of focus. It leaves just Louis and Sunshine Boy and the snow; him and this small boy, the frosted pine trees, the fairy lights wrapped around the fence that look like blinking stars.

Slowly, stormy light is stealing over the neighbourhood; but the boy is still shining, bright, bright, bright. And almost too suddenly, the rain is falling down towards the earth in sheets, a smudge of a storm growing darker on the horizon, and Louis lets himself sink into the sound. Then it’s raining fully and everything is still covered in snow and slush, melting icicles on branches letting his sunlight shine through.

It's bright but dark at the same time, Louis doesn't understand. And all too soon, Sunshine Boy is toddling back into his house wearing a too bright smile and too big Wellingtons. And all too soon, it feels so dark.

☀

Raindrops trickle from the blackened clouds that illuminate every so often to an arrow of lightning. The ebbing of dwindling twilight is softly kissing the horizon. Hair wild and sleep tousled, the sunlight softens the edges of his face. The sunlight is still so bright, lighting up the loose strands of his dark, bramble-wild hair, transforming the world into a honey coloured dream.

The waves crash somewhere in the depths of Louis' dreams, bright white seabirds calling out into the wind, their sounds echoing. The whole world is a kaleidoscope of crescent moon shapes and snow against soft flowers that only grow in winter. There is snowfall, white stars and frosted pine trees. There is someone whose features are so blurry and out of focus, eyelashes looking like nothing but wet stars, wisps of angel. The rest is bright smoke and blush-coloured rain, something that feels like snow or maybe even sunshine. The final droplets of sleep slip away, like glittering golden rain. Louis wakes with a start, greeted by a hazy chestnut darkness, lilac sky glowing outside of his bedroom window. Pale light is washing in from the outside, it strikes at dust in the air. It isn't snowing anymore, but the memories of a night wrapped in snow are left dripping, clear and golden, down the window pane. The morning is always beautiful, Louis thinks.

Later that day, when he sees Sunshine Boy planting flowers in the garden across the road with a lady that looks like the feeling of a warm hug, Louis doesn't question why on earth they would be planting flowers in a garden kissed by melted snow. Instead, he presses crescent moon shapes into his skin with blunt nails. Because he just has to be sure. He must be sure that he isn't still bathed in a hazy lilac dream where sunlight is endless and stars sing in whispers.

☀

It’s Louis’ favourite place in the whole world. Sometimes he finds himself sitting here for hours on end, it’s as if time doesn’t exist here. Like space and certainties don’t matter, all that matters is the present. The window pane is old and worn, the paint flaking and scratched, bright white faded over time to a freckled ivory. It’s a doorway to an ever-changing forest, where the trees have arms that reach sky-ward. They allow small birdies to weave and nest within their fingers. They don’t mind. Sometimes if Louis looks out of the window on windy days, the trees wave at him with extended fingers. At night time, they try to pluck stars from the sky like his mummy plucks flowers from their hair in Summer. Once Louis climbed the biggest tree in the garden, he reached up high into the sky, just like the trees reaching for stars. He shouted to the man in the moon. But he did not reply. Louis' vision became a static blur of moon and star, before his body was swallowed whole by black sky. He doesn’t remember much else of that night, apart from mummy’s voice and star juice that tasted of beach water. Louis is not allowed to go into the forest anymore.

Louis sits pressed against the cold glass, listening to the birds talking to each other like sweet lullabies his mummy used to sing to him. She doesn’t sing them much now, because baby Lottie is here. So instead the birds sing to him. Louis doesn’t mind.

He very almost believes that he sees someone skipping amongst the trees. He almost believes he can see golden wings glittering like faint sunshine lace upon a sprite's small back. He almost believes that a round-faced cherub is wondering around his garden picking flowers. He almost believes that Sunshine Boy is there, in his garden. And then tufts of hair as wild as brambles and a grin as bright as sun come into view. And then he does not only believe, but he knows that Sunshine Boy is in his garden.

Louis decides he should move quite cautiously. He's heard his mummy talk many times of the sun often disappearing quickly, especially where he lives. He definitely does not want Sunshine Boy to disappear. He holds his breath, lifting the small bronze hook that keeps the window closed and slowly pushing the large panel open. He slips out of the window and onto the forest floor, an extension of his home.

When he gets up, his breath is stolen by a soft gust of wind, borrowed by a mirthful giggle, swept away by a whimsical cherub. Up this close, Sunshine Boy is angelic, Louis can only gaze in wonder. He is awed. He watches as Sunshine Boy sniffs the flowers his mummy planted yesterday. They were only bought from the shops, not like the ones Louis saw Sunshine Boy and his mummy planting  a couple of days ago. But Sunshine Boy seems more than pleased, making a soft humming sound. He goes to pick the flower, his tiny hands stretched like trees reaching for stars.

Louis is subconsciously gravitating towards the boy. Without realising, his bare feet crunch noisily atop the autumn leaves. Sunshine Boy's head snaps up from where he was admiring the flower, his hands jerking away from it. He looks like a deer in bright starlight; his large celadon green eyes resembling those of a baby fawn. His rounded cheeks are blush-coloured rain. His wild-berry mouth is slightly parted. His clothes are too big. His eyes are too big. His cheeks are too big. Louis' heart feels too big.

"Oops." Sunshine Boy breathes. Louis' mouth feels dry. His tummy is twirling in a current of fluttering butterfly wings. Sunshine Boy's eyelashes flutter like their wings, Louis thinks. But then he can't think. Sunshine Boy looks expectant, his eyes grow even bigger. But Louis doesn't know what to say.

"Hi. My name is Louis." He squeaks stepping toward the smaller boy, holding out his hand. Sunshine Boy blinks down owlishly at Louis' hand and when he looks up he looks as if he's about to cry. Louis cannot let that happen, surely. "Wait, please don't cry."

But then he is crying, his shoulders are shaking and loud sobs are escaping from his lips. Louis rushes to him, pulling him into a tight, tight, tight hug just like the ones mummy gives him when he hurts himself.

"Bu-but I took your prett-y flowers. I'm s-sorr-y." He sobs into Louis' neck between small hiccups. Louis feels very bad.

"No. Please don't cry. I don't really like them all that much anyway. You can keep them. I promise I'm not mad or upset or angry or-" Sunshine Boy lifts his head from where his face is pressed snugly into Louis' neck, gazing up hopefully at the older boy, tears still dripping down his cherub cheeks like glittering, golden rain. His doe eyes are shiny and his wet lashes are bunched together like points of a star, thick with rainwater tears.

"You really mean that?" He giggles, seashore eyes gleaming with mirth behind wet stars.

"Cross my heart." Louis smiles. The tall trees build a canopy above their heads, their arms tangling as they reach for stars together. There is a thin half-moon hugged against a rack of hazy, lilac cloud. The birds are still singing their lullabies. Behind his eyelids, it’s warm, and it’s still raining. He hugs Sunshine Boy tighter, and when he thinks that they've fallen into comfortable silence, the younger boy shifts.

"Hi. My name is Harry." Louis looks down at him. Harry giggles, and it’s the best lullaby he's ever heard.

**  
☀**


End file.
